Splashes of Color
by optimus-pam
Summary: Seven Everlark stories inspired by the Prompts in Panem's "Peeta's Paint Box" challenge: "It Began with a Red Dress;" "An Orange Accident;" "Sun's Cold Embrace;" "Painted Houses;" "Dark Blue;" "Violet/Violent;" "Gray Expectations." Ranges from T to M for sexual content and mentions of child abuse.
1. Chapter 1: It Began with a Red Dress

**It Began With a Red Dress…**

_The next morning Katniss smiled to herself as she picked their clothes up from the floor, marveling that it all began with a red dress._

* * *

Her mother had laid out one of her old dresses. It was a red shirt dress with a row of pearl buttons down the bust. They weren't real pearls of course, but they were pretty and shiny and smooth and Katniss couldn't help but rub her fingers over the one at the top of her collar as she made her way to the Justice Building.

It was Reaping Day. Today, she would be stop being Katniss Everdeen and become, Katniss whoever. The idea filled her with nausea and dread as she signed in and stood next to the other 18-year-old girls of District 12.

Effie Trinket clutched an electronic tablet in her hands, checking names off a list as she announced each pair.

Leevy Thatcher was just matched with Toby Eaton when Katniss heard her name.

"Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!" Effie trilled into the microphone.

_The boy with the bread. _Katniss was stunned. She took in a deep, trembling breath and made her way up the steps of the Justice Building. She felt a warm hand graze hers and looked up into the deep blue eyes of Peeta Mellark. He offered her a kind smile, before taking her hand and guiding them over to Effie Trinket.

"Congratulations, what a big big day!" She beamed as she handed them a packet and ushered them off to the side. A Capitol attendant guided them to a small room inside the building where their families were already waiting. Her mother and Prim stood on one side of the room, while the Mellarks stood at the other.

The kind, gentle baker walked over to Katniss and wrapped her in a warm embrace. "Welcome to the family, Katniss," he smiled down at her.

Mrs. Mellark huffed in the background but remained blessedly silent throughout the ceremony.

Katniss and Peeta exchanged the Capitol-prepared vows then scrawled their signatures on a thick piece of paper. Their fate was sealed with a heavy thud when the Capitol attendant looked the paperwork over, deemed everything acceptable and stamped it with the seal of Panem.

After the ceremony, Mr. Mellark insisted they all go back to the bakery. He had prepared a small cake with white frosting that simply read "Congratulations." It occurred to Katniss, as she and Peeta cut the first slice together, that it was because they didn't know who their son's bride might be.

The so-called celebration was short-lived when Mrs. Mellark announced that, unlike some, they had a business to run that required waking early in the morning. Katniss blushed when Mrs. Mellark looked Peeta in the eye and told him that wedding night or not, she expected him at the bakery by sunrise like always.

They made their way to the small home they had been assigned on the edge town. Katniss looked down at the paperwork in her hands, her eyes drawn to where she signed her new name. Mellark looked sloppy and childish next to the smooth and practiced flow of Katniss.

"Katniss Mellark," Peeta mumbled reverently, looking at the marriage certificate she placed on the fireplace mantel.

She felt anxious and jittery, like all her nerve endings were stretched tight waiting to snap. Katniss fiddled with the button at the top of her collar as her eyes were drawn to the open door of the bedroom and the mattress within.

She startled when Peeta quietly complimented her, "That's a nice color on you."

Katniss blinked, her attention diverted. "Huh?" She asked, confused.

"I always thought red suited you," he confessed, his blue eyes refusing to meet her gray ones.

Puzzled she said, "I don't wear red."

"But you do, or well, you did," he began.

Katniss raised a questioning brow.

"You remember the first day of school? Probably not. Well the first day of school, my dad pointed you out. You were wearing this red plaid dress and you had your hair in two braids instead of one."

Katniss hadn't realized how close Peeta had gotten until his hand reached out and touched the hair of her single braid, carelessly tossed over her shoulder.

Peeta continued his reverie, "You wore a red plaid dress and later in the day you sang the Valley Song and when you did, all the birds outside stopped to listen."

"Thank you. That's-that's what people used to say about my dad."

Peeta smiled ruefully, "I know."

His hand tightened around her braid before letting go but Katniss caught it before it could fall back to his side. She enfolded his large hand into her two smaller ones before flicking her eyes up to meet his blue ones, "You have a…remarkable memory."

He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I remember everything about you. You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

Her gray eyes were soft and glistening with tears but her chin rose in defiance at his words. "Who says I wasn't paying attention?" She challenged before more words tumbled out of her mouth. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You never take sugar in your tea. You let your brother win that wrestling match two years ago. And you always double-knot your shoelaces." She licked her lips before meeting Peeta's eyes. "You don't forget the person who was your last hope, Peeta."

She rose up on her feet and captured his lips in a searing kiss. Her hands wound their way into his blond curls and his arms circled her waist. He tasted sweet, like cake and white frosting, as she swiped her tongue across his. She trailed kisses down his neck, dropping one at the base of his throat, tasting his pulse point. He emitted a low growl and lifted her up into his arms when she gently nipped at his ear.

Her back hit the bedroom wall with a thud. Peeta's hands unwound her plaited hair and his hips needfully pressed into hers. "I always wanted…but I never thought…" he panted breathlessly against her throat, his warm hands roaming over her gentle curves.

She closed her eyes tight, keen sensations of pleasure radiating from where their bodies rhythmically moved together. "I know, Peeta, I know."

His lips attacked the delicate flesh of her neck and shaking hands clumsily undid the buttons on her dress. Their bodies hit the lumpy mattress just as the last of their clothes landed in a rumpled pile on the floor.

Their hurried pace slowed to something more reverent. Despite their secret hopes and wildest dreams, neither of them ever truly expected to share this with the other.

But there they were, Peeta and Katniss Mellark, sharing a wedding night.

They left no part of each other unexplored, untouched, untasted, until finally, with sweat-soaked sheets tangled around their bodies, they claimed each other.

The next morning Katniss smiled to herself as she picked their clothes up from the floor, marveling that it all began with a red dress.

Years later, a dark-haired blue-eyed girl would wear a red plaid dress with pearl buttons on the first day of school. They weren't real pearls of course, but they were pretty and shiny and smooth and she couldn't help but rub her fingers over the one at the top of her collar as her mother and father walked her to the schoolhouse.


	2. Chapter 2: An Orange Accident

**An Orange Accident**

_It had been commonplace in the early days of their recovery to find Katniss huddled in a dark corner or closet somewhere. Much like when she would ease him through one of his flashbacks from the hijacking, Peeta would join Katniss in the darkness until she wasn't afraid to face the light anymore. (Post-Mockingjay, pre-epilogue, Mommy!Katniss and Daddy!Peeta)._

* * *

Peeta burst through their front door out of breath and still covered in flour from the bakery.

"Daddy!" His five-year-old daughter shouted upon seeing him. She ran across the room and jumped into his arms, burying her wet face in his neck.

"Easy girl," he cooed, patting her back. She sniffled, trying to pretend tears weren't falling down her face when Delly spoke up.

"I'm so sorry Peeta! I didn't know what to do, I haven't seen her like this in years. I couldn't think of anything to do but have Thom go get you." She cried, worriedly wringing her hands.

He adjusted his daughter on his hip, wiping her clear blue eyes with the apron still tied around

his waist, tucking her dark hair behind her shoulder.

"It's alright, Dells. Where is she?" He asked.

"Linen closet upstairs. She's been there for hours. I tried Haymitch next door first but she just sat there still as stone while he tried talking to her. She clawed at his harms when he tried to force her out. He, uh, said a few choice words and left at that. Told us to hurry up and call you though."

"Oh I'm sure Haymitch will have quite a lot to say when this is all over," Peeta said.

He gave his daughter one last squeeze and a kiss on the head before handing her back over Delly.

"I want you to be a good girl and go get some ice cream with Auntie Delly."

"No! I don't want to leave. I want to stay here with you and mommy!" She cried.

"I know you do, Sweetheart. I promise, Mommy and I will come get you in a bit. In plenty of time for bath and storytime, OK?" He spoke softly.

She nodded, her big blue eyes blown wide from her earlier tears.

"I'm so sorry Peeta," Delly said again. "We'll just…be on our way. Come get her whenever you're ready."

The blonde clasped the little girl's hand tightly and led her out the door.

Peeta scrubbed his hands over his face and picked the offending item in question up from the floor.

He slowly made his way up the stairs, his prosthetic leg sore from his sprint across the District. When Thom had shown up at the bakery, clearly distraught, tripping over an explanation about Katniss and their daughter, Peeta had torn through town at a punishing pace. He paused and took a deep breath before opening the door to the linen closet. The sight that greeted him made his heart ache. Katniss sat in a crumpled pile at the bottom, her face white as a sheet, her hands protectively clutching her pregnant belly.

"Oh Katniss," he sighed. He immediately settled in behind his wife, wrapping her up in a protective embrace.

She stiffened at first contact but quickly relaxed into the familiar warmth and comfort of Peeta's arms.

He placed warm, delicate kisses on her neck while running gentle circles on her protruding belly.

It had been commonplace in the early days of their recovery to find Katniss huddled in a dark corner or closet somewhere. Much like when she would ease him through one of his flashback's from the hijacking, Peeta would join Katniss in the darkness until she wasn't afraid to face the light anymore.

He idly hummed in her ear for several long moments before he spoke. "I know why you're so upset Katniss. But it's alright, it's just a backpack. She didn't know, she didn't mean anything by it."

Katniss stiffened at his words before slowly forcing each of her muscles to relax.

"I know," she croaked.

"It was an accident. I doubt Delly even remembers." He continued softly.

"Probably not," Katniss muttered. She picked up the bright orange backpack their daughter had selected while Delly took her school shopping. "It's just, I can't ever think about her and the Games at the same time. They can't coexist in my mind. I won't let them. I won't even let them touch her in my thoughts. And seeing her wear a bright orange backpack so much like the one…" her words cut off with a pained sob, remembering the backpack she wore in the first arena.

Peeta clutched his wife more tightly to his chest. "I know, I know, Katniss. But I swear to you she's safe. We'll keep her safe. There's no reapings. No more games. And," he said, running his hands over her stomach meaningfully, "when this one comes along we'll keep her safe too."

"Keep him safe," she said defiantly, while wiping tears from her eyes.

"You're so sure of yourself, aren't you?" He teased while nuzzling her neck, but he quickly sobered.

He turned Katniss until she was looking him in the eyes.

"We'll keep them both safe. I promise."

"Always?" She asked, leaning her forehead against his.

"Always."

Later, when Peeta was helping his very pregnant wife up from the floor, she released a hearty chuckle.

He raised a questioning brow.

"I should have just let her use that hideous pink monstrosity Effie sent her."


	3. Chapter 3: Sun's Cold Embrace

**Sun's Cold Embrace**

"_O, now be gone; more light and light it grows... _

_More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!" — Romeo and Juliet, Act III, scene iv_

_It was always dangerous to love thine enemy. But Katniss could stop loving Peeta Mellark no more than she could stop breathing, than the sun could stop rising in the east. No matter how crossed their stars, she would love him. Always. (For Day 3: Yellow. Everlark Romeo + Juliet)._

* * *

Friar Abernathy took small sips from a flask hidden inside his robes while walking them down the darkened corridor. He led them through several winding passageways before they finally arrived at a small room at the back of the large church. Small candles were lit throughout the room, giving it a soft yellow glow. Katniss had never given much thought to her wedding, but as a daughter of House Everdeen she never imagined her only love would spring from her only hate.

But there she stood before Friar Abernathy, hand in hand with Peeta Mellark. A golden halo of light surrounded them as they spoke their clandestine vows. After, Peeta accepted the hearty congratulations of their only witnesses, his man Cinna and her lady Portia.

She caught a dark look in the Friar's gray eyes. "If you do not approve why did you consent to marry us?" She questioned.

"Sweetheart, _these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so," _he warned.

"Have you no other words for us, man of God?" She asked with a sneer, sick of his riddles.

"Stay alive, Sweetheart. Above all else, stay alive."

* * *

Could the Friar's warning have only been given that morning? How could the sweet taste of joy suddenly become bitter ashes in her mouth?

Katniss paced across her room wondering how in three hours of being a wife, she could have mangled it. She couldn't speak ill of her departed cousin Gale, for he was her kinsman, but neither could she curse Peeta, her husband, for slaying him.

Her torn heart beat faster at the sounds outside her window, and she was overcome with joy and anguish at the sight of Peeta. His warm, steady embrace assured her, but the raging storm of her emotions would not be calmed so easily.

"Damn you!" She cried into his shoulder, "You scared me to death!"

Despite the cuts and bruises on his face, nothing could mar the beauty of his smile. His full pink lips rose up at the corners and his blue eyes shined bright in the silvery moonlight. But the smile quickly vanished from his face. His shoulders slumped with grief and solemnity. "Gale died at my hands and for that I am sorry."

She tangled her hands in his thick head of blond curls, still grimy with sweat and blood from the fray, and forced him to meet her eyes.

"You slew Gale, he slew Finnick. No one is without sin."

He hesitated. "I wasn't sure if you knew about Finnick."

"I know, Peeta," she spoke reassuringly. "I know you never would have killed my kinsman without cause."

"Never," he echoed.

They held each other for long moments, breathing each other in. Katniss was sure he must smell the forest on her skin, for she had run through it aimlessly at the news of Gale's death and Peeta's banishment. Underneath the harsh metallic odor of blood and pungent smell of sweat, Peeta smelled almost sweet, like cinnamon and dill.

She felt his pulse hammering beneath his skin, adrenaline still coursing through his body. Katniss placed gentle, soothing kisses at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Come, let's to bed with you," she entreated him. He moved slowly and that's when Katniss saw the bruises on his side and the bandage on his leg.

"He wounded you?" She asked, eyes wide with fear.

"More than a scratch, but not enough to make a grave man of me," he tried to joke.

Her scowl deepened. "I would not like to become a widow the same day I become a wife, Peeta."

"Nor would I, my lady," he said with a small smile.

She guided him to the mattress and helped him undress. Her eyes explored his broad shoulders as she unlaced the ties at the collar of his shirt. Her hands quickly followed, mapping the warm, pale skin so in contrast to her dusky, olive tone.

Peeta sucked in a breath as he raised his arms over his head so that she could ease his shirt off. She drank in the sight of him. He may have been beaten but her dandelion in the spring was far from broken.

His hands did not stay idle, just as Katniss finished removing his boots she felt a warm pair of hands cradle her hips. Peeta pulled her close and buried his face in her stomach. He heaved a deep sigh before looking up into her eyes. "I want you, but I don't deserve you," he lamented.

She took his face in her hands, her gray eyes boring into his blue ones. "Perhaps not, but I want you and I deserve to have exactly what I want Peeta Mellark."

Her words lit a spark in his eyes. He suddenly rose up, clutched Katniss around the waist and spun them around. Katniss landed with a bounce, her back hitting the feather bed. Peeta hovered above her with his weight resting on his elbows.

"You love me. Real or not real?" He asked, his soul laid bare in his eyes.

"Real."

He took her lips in a searing kiss, paying attention first to her top and then her bottom lip before sweeping his tongue into her mouth.

Katniss moaned at the contact, her breath escaping in a rush. The blood pounded in her veins, sending spikes of pleasure throughout her body. Her hands roved over the muscles of his back, chest and shoulders before plunging into his soft silky hair.

He released her lips with a gasping breath before attacking the delicate flesh of her neck. His hands reached up to release her dark hair, still bound in an intricate plait from the ceremony earlier that day.

Katniss' breath hitched as he slowly undid the laces of her gown, revealing her dusky skin inch by inch. She sat up and quickly shucked the gown from her body, emitting a shy small laugh when her skirts tangled about her ankles.

Fire burned in Peeta's eyes at the sight of Katniss in her chemise. She met his heated gaze with one of her own, admiring his strong jaw, broad chest and lean hips. Heat bloomed in her cheeks when her eyes were inexorably drawn to the bulge in his trousers.

"Katniss, I don't care if you see me. I _want _you to see me," he breathed.

Emboldened, she reached across the space between them and hastily untied Peeta's trousers and breeches, allowing them to fall gracelessly at his feet. Her heart thundered in her chest as she took in the sight of his beautiful, naked body. His lips claimed hers at the same time their bodies crashed together, landing none too gracefully on the bed. His hands were suddenly everywhere, guiding the soft cotton of her chemise off her body and on to the floor. They shuddered at the overwhelming sensation of bare skin on bare skin.

Katniss keened at the sensation of her hardened nipples grazing Peeta's chest. He worked his way down her body, nuzzling against the tender, heated flesh of her breasts before taking first one and then the other into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. Katniss shut her eyes and groaned at the gentle pressure, pleasure radiating throughout her body.

Peeta's mouth worked his way down her body until his kiss enveloped her very being. His lips and tongue, which she already knew be to so talented in speech, were equally as skilled at this new task. She was gasping and panting as pleasure radiated from her core. She felt on the precipice of something great, but when Peeta clutched her hand tightly in his, forcing her gray eyes to clash with his blue, a dam broke within her, suffusing her body in glorious, delicious ecstasy.

She brought her fingers to his seemingly bee stung lips as he crawled back up the bed, hovering over her. Katniss tentatively pecked him, tasting herself on his lips but quickly deepened the kiss, swiping her tongue against his.

Peeta released a growl low in his throat when she brushed her wet core against him. He placed a delicate kiss on her lips before gently guiding himself inside her body. Katniss gasped at the intrusion, mystified that one act could make her body feel so much pleasure and so much pain.

"Katniss," he moaned, his face buried in her hair.

"Peeta," she exhaled against his shoulder.

Peeta slowly made love to his new bride, gently rocking his hips into hers until she grasped his backside and plaintively demanded, "More, Peeta...just _more._"

His name was a breathless shout as she found her release, he quickly followed groaning into her sweat-soaked neck.

Peeta tenderly swept her hair from her face and placed delicate kisses across her cheeks and brow before joining their lips. The star-crossed lovers fell into restful slumber, until roused by the faint light of dawn.

As if he had been born the son of a baker rather than that of a lord, Peeta had always risen with the sun. Katniss scowled at the morning bird's song, cursing the lark for calling her lover from her bed.

"_Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark,"_ she said, nuzzling his neck.

"_It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale...I must be gone and live, or stay and die,"_ he spoke as he gathered his discarded clothing, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

"I wish you didn't have to leave Panem, I wish for you to stay with me," she confessed quietly, resting her head upon his shoulder

"I would stay with you always, my love, if I could. But banishment is better than death and we shall meet again," he said, turning in her arms to claim her lips in a kiss.

Katniss rose from the bed, clutching the sheet to her body. She pulled back the curtains, revealing the yellow light of the sun which until that moment had never felt so cold. She much preferred the moon's gentler embrace now, for the sun's harsh light was naught but laughter in her face. Each beam calling her lover from her side.

She straightened her shoulders and steeled her resolve, with one last bruising kiss she bid Peeta farewell. _"O, now be gone; more light and light it grows."_

"_More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!" _He called to her as he climbed down the balcony.

She watched the sun's yellow light embrace him as he escaped from Panem, bound for Mantua. Despite all the tender words and passionate kisses exchanged, Katniss felt cold dread envelop her at the prophetic ring of Peeta's parting words.


	4. Chapter 4: Painted Houses

**Painted Houses**

_She and Haymitch never discussed it, but they both knew it was Peeta. It was a miraculous feat in and of itself that he painted entire houses in one night, let alone never being discovered. Slowly it continued, until all the houses in Victor's Village were a veritable rainbow of color._

* * *

She hadn't seen much of Peeta since his return from the Capitol. It had been weeks since she discovered him planting primroses along the side of her house. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious about his goings on.

She was sitting on Haymitch's porch, watching him trying to wrangle baby goslings and stealing surreptitious glances at Peeta's house, when the surly mentor spoke. "Walk the 20 paces and knock on his door, Sweetheart. You're not going to glean much from staring, no matter how hard you look."

"Have you seen him much? Since he got back?" She asked, not meeting his eyes, picking at lint on her worn sweater.

"A bit. He stops by with some bread, I check to see if he's out of his mind or not," he answered casually.

"And?" She prompted.

"And what?"

"Is he alright?" She pressed.

"None of us are alright, Sweetheart, but he's not howling at the moon or tilting at windmills if that's what you're asking."

Katniss huffed. "Some help you are."

"The Games are over. I'm not your mentor anymore," he called to her as she walked away.

"Saying it doesn't make it true," she chided him, not looking back.

"Fine, if I'm still your mentor then I _advise_ you to go talk to him. Stalking is for prey, not people," he shouted across the Victor's Village, just as her door slammed shut.

A few more weeks passed without Katniss seeing hide nor hair of Peeta, but she did see traces of him.

One spring morning she woke to find his house painted a soft, sunset orange. She blinked at the bright color, stunned. For the house had been the same white color as all the rest in the Village — hers and Haymitch's included — just the day before.

The pattern continued. Every several days they would wake to find another house in the Village painted a new and different shade. The house at the end of the row was a lovely lilac; the house two over from Katniss was a warm tan; Haymitch woke to one day to find his house Robin's egg blue.

She and Haymitch never discussed it, but they both knew it was Peeta. It was a miraculous feat in and of itself that he painted entire houses in one night, let alone never being discovered.

Slowly it continued, until all the houses in Victor's Village were a veritable rainbow of color. All except for Katniss'. First one week went by and then another. Each day she rose secretly hoping to find her house some wondrous new shade. But each day she was disappointed, stuck with the bland, antiseptic white of the Capitol.

But eventually, on a warm spring night, just on the eve of dawn Katniss awoke at a sound outside her window. Despite two dead presidents, Katniss was always afraid of retribution from the Capitol, wary of unseen enemies.

She grabbed her bow from it's place in the closet and leaned outside her window, taking aim. She shrieked and her heart leapt to her throat as Peeta nearly fell from his perch on a ladder.

"Katniss! You scared me half to death!" He exclaimed.

"Scared you! I'm not the one scaling your walls in the middle of the night!" She admonished him.

"True," he said, offering her a smile so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that a long-forgotten but welcome warmth rushed through her.

Katniss took a moment to get her bearings, setting the bow down on the floor. She breathed deeply before leaning back out the window. The sun started to rise and she could see that Peeta was nearly done and covered in paint.

Green paint.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She thought, she hoped…but she couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was just coincidence…

"You painted my house…green."

"It's your favorite color, right?" He asked tentatively, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

Katniss couldn't speak so she nodded.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, moving his arm in sweeping motion, indicating the houses of the Village. "It's been…somewhat therapeutic for me."

"All that white reminded of the Capitol," he added. "Of hospitals and prison cells," he said with a shudder.

"No! I like it," she assured him with a small smile. "I…uh…thank you, Peeta. For remembering."

"I may not remember everything about my life from before the…well, before. But I remember you Katniss Everdeen. I remember you."

Five, ten, fifteen years later Katniss would once again wake to find Peeta painting walls of her house, but this time instead of green, it was the soft, sunset walls of their first child's nursery.


	5. Chapter 5: Dark Blue

**Dark Blue**

Inspired by the song "Dark Blue" by my favorite artist, Jack's Mannequin.

_Katniss Everdeen won the 70th Hunger Games because she was the best swimmer. But she never truly escaped the feel of drowning. (Everlark as Odesta)._

* * *

"_This flood is slowly rising up swallowing the ground  
__Beneath my feet, tell me how anybody thinks under this condition so  
__I'll swim as the water rises up, the sun is sinking down…  
__This night's a perfect shade of dark blue  
__Have you ever been alone in a crowded room when I'm here with you  
__I said the world could be burning 'til there's nothing but dark blue…"_

The first thing Katniss Everdeen saw when she awoke after winning the 70th Hunger Games were the deep blue eyes of her mentor, Peeta Mellark.

Her heartbeat spiked as she lost herself in the indigo irises. Machines and monitors beeped loudly in her recovery room as wave after wave of memory assaulted her. She could hear the dam breaking, feel the thunderous crash of waves all around, see the seemingly endless supply of dark blue water engulf the arena and all the tributes within.

They quickly sedated her, a practice which would grow tiresome in the weeks after her victory. Whenever the fear became too much and her nerves overtook her, a Capitol attendant with a syringe would soon appear.

They would only bother through her Victory Tour though, at least that's what they told her. She imagined once her duties as a victor were fulfilled she could fade into oblivion, the broken, sad girl from District Four who lost her mind.

The only times she could avoid the drugs on the tour, the only person who could calm her down was her mentor, Peeta. Besides that first day waking after the Games, she found her mentor had a calming effect on her. Often her mind felt like it was being tossed about in a raging storm but Peeta, with his warm and gentle demeanor, made Katniss feel like she was wading in still waters.

He approached her on the final night of her Victory Tour. The reception was held on one of District Four's many piers. Rounded light bulbs were strung like stars up and down the way. A long table with a sea foam tablecloth was decorated with every delicacy imaginable: clams and muscles bathed in a white wine sauce, lobster drenched in butter, crab fresh from the sea dressed with lemon. Katniss dully eyed all the food that was once the stuff her dreams were made of. In leaner years, after her father died in a tragic fishing boat accident, there were times when she and her sister Prim had nothing but a can of tuna to split between them.

She had been staring at the food, unmoving for too long when Peeta approached her. She did that frequently, got lost in some corner of her mind and it often disconcerted people, but usually someone, like her sister Prim or Peeta if he was around, would bring her back to herself.

"Sugar cube?" He asked, holding out a palmful of the sweets.

"No, thank you," she replied quietly.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself, this party's for you after all."

"Do you enjoy the Capitol parties President Snow throws in your honor?" She asked, a challenge in her gray eyes.

"No," he gulped. "Come on," he said reaching out his hand. "Take a walk with me."

Katniss hesitantly accepted her mentor's hand. He guided her away from the party and down to the beach.

The water was inky black in the dark of night, except for the frosted white tips of waves breaking against the shore.

They were quiet for much of their walk. Katniss had never been a great conversationalist and that certainly hadn't improved since the games. But she enjoyed the silence. Instead she focused on the salty sea air and the feel of sand beneath her bare feet.

Peeta eventually came to a stop and sat in the sand, not caring about his tuxedo. Katniss joined him, tucking the skirt of her silver dress beneath her.

He looked out into the ocean, the color of which was so much like his eyes.

"You don't swim anymore."

Katniss blinked. "What?"

He looked at her intently, almost accusingly. "You stopped swimming, didn't you?"

Katniss felt the tide of anxiety rising, could feel her chest tightening, her heart beating faster, her breath coming shorter until Peeta took her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Breathe Katniss. It's alright. Just breathe." He took in deep steadying breaths and guided her to do the same until she felt her pulse steady.

Peeta's warm hands were still on her cheeks when he spoke again. "Don't let him take this from you too."

She lowered her eyes. "I don't- I don't know what you mean."

"I remember you Katniss Everdeen. I remember the first day of school when the teacher took us to the cove and asked who know how to swim and your hand shot in the air. You swam that day, so carefree and graceful in the water and it was beautiful. I've seen you Katniss, you're like a mermaid. Like the enchanting sea creatures they tell bedtime stories about. Don't let him take that from you."

Tears were streaming down her face. She looked out to the ocean waters and then into his ocean blue eyes.

"I want to, Peeta, but I can't. Every time I try it's like the arena all over again. I hear that horrible cracking noise the dam made and the panic overwhelms me and I feel like I'm going to drown," she cried. "I just can't do it."

"But you can, Katniss, I swear it." A sudden look came over Peeta's face. He shot to his feet and quickly shucked off his jacket, before attacking the buttons of his white dress shirt. Katniss blushed when he unzipped his trousers.

She looked up at him, standing in the moonlight in just his undershorts. He looked like the marble statue of Poseidon they had outside their Justice Building. All the power of the sea contained within his rippling muscles. He truly was the most beautiful man in Panem.

And the most beautiful man in Panem was standing before her half-naked, his hand extended in invitation. She accepted and he pulled her to her feet.

Her turned her around and slowly, carefully untied the complicated knots at the back of nautical-themed her dress.

"Come on Katniss," he whispered in her ear. "Join me for a midnight swim."

If his tone had been mocking or seductive, she would have run away as fast her legs could carry her but when she looked at his face, all she saw was a plea for trust.

And Katniss realized, as she carefully slid the silk garment from her body, that she did trust him. Perhaps more than anyone else in the whole world.

So she let him take her hand and guide her into the water. They swam like sea creatures of legend, diving and resurfacing with graceful ease. Eventually Katniss found herself in Peeta's arms, looking into his eyes. The whole world was dark blue just before he kissed her. And for once, as he stole the breath from her lungs, drowning didn't feel like a bad thing.


	6. Chapter 6: VioletViolent

**Violet/Violent**

_Katniss Everdeen sings a battered, nearly broken Peeta Mellark to sleep. She wonders, as she sings the last verse — __**Here is the place where I love you **__— when exactly those words became the truth._

* * *

Katniss never noticed the bruises, the uncommonly frequent and inexplicable injuries, until after the incident with the bread.

The bruise bloomed across his pale cheek in the days that followed his life-saving gift. At first it was a violent, near-violet purple that faded to dull blue to sickly green before eventually disappearing completely.

She didn't know how many untold abuses Peeta Mellark withstood before he became _the boy with the bread,_ but Katniss could count each and every one that followed.

A sprained wrist in sixth year. A mild concussion the spring he turned 13. A suspicious oven burn their freshman year and more split lips and bruises than "roughhousing with his brothers" could ever explain.

But Peeta Mellark was charming and amusing and affable and had a way with words that made everyone believe his lies, but Katniss knew they were lies.

She saw him too clearly, watched him too closely not to know the truth. He was in her year, she saw him during physical education classes and he was on the wrestling team to boot. It was impossible that someone with his natural athletic ability could be as clumsy as he professed.

So Katniss turned to her mother's store of healing herbs and remedies. She never pinched so much that they wouldn't be able to help someone who came calling, just enough to ease aches, disinfect cuts, heal bruises.

Since they were 11 years old Katniss and Peeta had been in an unspoken truce. He didn't acknowledge the healing remedies mysteriously left at the bakery's back door and Katniss never said a word about the hearty bread and flaky rolls that appeared still warm on her doorstep some mornings.

She dutifully split the baked goods with her sister, who eyed them curiously but chewed silently.

Katniss never said a word. Not until the night Peeta arrived at her front door, battered and bloody and clutching his side in pain.

He passed out as soon as he crossed the threshold. Katniss startled at having an unconscious Peeta Mellark in her arms. She told Prim to fetch their mother as she laid him out on the kitchen table.

Peeta had just started to come to when her mother walked into the room.

Some days her mother was still a stranger, a distant ghost, but when her mother had a patient to heal she reminded Katniss of the woman she had been before her father's death.

Mrs. Everdeen's sharp gaze took in Peeta's quickly blackening eye and split lip before landing on his torso, which he still clutched protectively.

"Alright young man-"

"Peeta," Katniss interrupted. "His name is Peeta."

Her mother raised a brow but continued to appraise her patient.

"Alright Peeta," she said soothingly. "Let me take a look at you."

Mrs. Everdeen's hands gently grasped the bottom of his shirt, he nodded his approval and she lifted it over his shoulders until his entire upper body was exposed.

Katniss covered her mouth to contain her horrified shriek. Red marks and cuts covered his side, violet purple bruises already blossoming on his skin.

Her mother trailed her hands down his side, gently prodding at the muscles and bones beneath his battered flesh.

Peeta sucked in a sharp breath and her mother straightened, a knowing look on her face.

"Broken ribs, just as I thought." She rummaged through their cupboards, looking for supplies.

Mrs. Everdeen wiped the sweat and blood from his side before applying a soothing balm to the abused flesh over Peeta's ribs.

"Come here Katniss," Mrs. Everdeen called. She looked into her daughter's eyes, "I need you to help me turn him on his side and steady him while I bind his side."

Katniss gulped, but did as her mother asked. Together they carefully turned Peeta onto his uninjured side.

His eyes closed tightly shut and he bit his lip to hold back a cry of pain.

"Peeta," Katniss called softly.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when his eyes fluttered open. She never noticed how very blue they were. They were bright, shiny and unfocused, swimming in pain.

She clasped his hand tightly and called his name again, urging him to meet her gaze.

"Peeta," she hesitated. "Did she- what happened?"

"Rolling pin," he exhaled through clenched teeth.

_His mother._

She didn't know she was crying until Peeta swiped a tear from her cheek.

"But, why?"

"She- she told my father to stop trading with you. Called you Seam trash." He let out a ragged breath. "I couldn't let her say that. I couldn't let her do that."

He gasped in pain and Katniss glanced sharply at her mother.

"Almost done," Mrs. Everdeen said quietly.

"You shouldn't have done that, I don't…It was foolish of you to take another beating for me," she argued, her voice a harsh whisper.

He smiled. "I guess you just have that effect on me." His chuckle turned into a pained cough.

"Here Peeta," her mother said, bringing a steaming mug of mint tea to his mouth. "Drink this."

"It's sweet," he said after a few hearty gulps.

_Sleep syrup?_ Katniss mouthed to her mother, who nodded in reply.

Mrs. Everdeen called Katniss over to the corner of the room.

"I've done all I can for him tonight. He'll need to stay here and rest. In the morning I'll go to town and talk to his father." A hard look came over her face as her eyes landed on Peeta's injured form. "I have some things I need to say him."

Katniss volunteered to stay up with Peeta. Her mother looked at her curiously but said nothing, just nodded and headed off to join Prim in the bedroom.

Peeta was already drowsy and somewhat dazed when she returned to his side.

"Katniss?" He asked, seemingly surprised to find her by his side. He nuzzled closer to her and began to mumble, somewhat incoherently.

"Katniss Everdeen. The girl who sings so prettily the birds stop to listen." His eyes opened suddenly and his head lolled as he tried rise up. Katniss quickly shushed him and placed a halting hand on his chest, easing him back down.

"Will you sing for me Katniss?" He asked.

"What?" She sputtered. "I don't- I haven't-" she started to refuse but stopped when she saw the wounded look in his eyes.

"Alright," she huffed playfully. "What should I sing?"

"Don't know, don't care," he slurred. "Just pretty voice."

Peeta was rapidly deteriorating and Katniss sang the first song that came to mind.

_"Deep in the meadow, under the willow  
__A bed of grass, a soft green pillow  
__Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes  
__And when you awake, the sun will rise."_

A look of childlike wonder passed over Peeta's face before his eyes began to flutter shut.

_"Here it's safe, here it's warm  
__Here the daisies guard you from harm  
__Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true  
__Here is the place where I love you."  
_

He was fast asleep when the song ended and she wondered, as she finished the last verse, when exactly those words had become the truth.

When had she fallen in love with Peeta Mellark?


	7. Chapter 7: Gray Expectations

**Gray Expectations**

_The difference between poverty and wealth — between her and Peeta — was stark as black and white. But what would become of her if she got caught up in the shades of gray in between? (For Day 7: Black and white. A Great Expectations AU)._

* * *

It was a bone-chilling Christmas Eve as Katniss Everdeen made her way to the District cemetery. She walked the miles-long stretch alone since her older cousin and guardian, Gale Hawthorne, worked long and hard in the coal mines six days a week. He was loathe to make the trek in the warm spring sun let alone bitter winter weather, citing that he was "too damn tired to visit the dead who don't know or care one way or another, Catnip."

Katniss found the humble markers indicating where her parents and younger sister were laid to rest. She swiped snow from the cement slab with her hand clad in holey, moth-eaten, green wool mittens.

"Abraham, Lily and Primrose Everdeen" the marker read. It had been years but sometimes Katniss still wondered why the sickness that took her family didn't take her too. Gale would say that they were fighters, that Seam folk survive. He didn't like to be argued with so Katniss didn't see much point in mentioning that her father was Seam and, despite her Merchant looks, Prim had been half-Seam too.

Katniss wrapped her father's worn hunting jacket more tightly around her slender 11-year-old frame, singing quietly into the chilly Christmas air. It was tradition, the Everdeens always rang Christmas in with a carol. She didn't see why traditions had to cease just because death had a mind to intervene.

_"Hark! how the bells  
__Sweet silver bells  
__All seem to say,  
_'_Throw cares away.'  
__Christmas is here  
__Bringing good cheer  
__To young and old  
__Meek and the bold."_

Katniss abruptly stopped singing "Carol of the Bells" when, strangely enough, she heard what almost sounded like the tinkling of a bell.

Her head whipped around, surveying the desolate, snow-covered grounds of the cemetery, trying to find the source of the sound. All too quickly, a hand clamped over her mouth as another grabbed her around the middle.

A dirty, grizzled man with straggly gray hair and a lined face sat her against one of the more grand headstones. Her body shook with terror and Katniss struggled to catch her breath as the man's gray eyes bored into hers.

"You got any food or a knife on you girl?" His words cracked around the edges, his voice gruff from disuse.

She shook her head no, her pigtail braids bouncing against her shoulders.

The man huffed in annoyance and sat back on his haunches. That's when Katniss saw it: the iron chain clamped around his ankle. He brought his bruised and bloodied leg up for inspection and Katniss heard the noise again. Although she realized it was the clinking links of his chain and not the tinkling of bells.

The man hissed and uttered a stream of curses even more colorful than those she overheard at the mines when taking Gale his lunch. The old man was Seam, that much was sure. He was also a convict from the prison, otherwise known as the Arena. That wasn't the prison's real name, no that was something official-sounding like Panem Penitentiary or other. No, it earned the name Arena because you were more likely to be killed by another inmate than serve your full sentence.

The filthy man was covered in mud and brambles. His teeth chattered and his limbs shook from the bitter cold. He grasped her shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze. "You live around here, Sweetheart?" The man asked, in a sandpaper voice. Katniss nodded affirmatively.

"Alright, alright, that's good. Now you listen here. You're going to go back and you're going to bring me some food and a file or some kind of tool that will help me remove the shackle." Her eyes darted down to the mangled flesh of his ankle and the iron clamped around it when he spoke. He roughly grabbed her chin and forced her eyes back to his. "If you don't come back I've got a friend out there in the trees and he'll do things to you little girl. He'll strip the flesh from your bones and make you wish you were one of the corpses lying in this graveyard. Understand?"

Katniss paled under her dusky skin but nodded vehemently, indicating her compliance.

She ran all the way home as fast as her legs could carry her. She slipped into the small house as quietly as possible, afraid of waking Gale or his sweet wife Madge.

They didn't have to take her in when her family died. Gale was only her cousin and she barely knew him at that. But his new wife Madge had just lost a baby and she grew deeply attached to Katniss in her grief. Sometimes Katniss thought it was the only reason he didn't ship her off to the community home.

Katniss grabbed two of the small squirrel-meat pies they made earlier in the day and swiped a bottle of white liquor from the cabinet. She rifled through Gale's tools before finding a rusted bolt cutter she hoped would work.

She quickly threw all her pilfered goods into her game bag and ran back to the cemetery. Katniss stuck to paths illuminated by the silvery moonlight, the passing shadows seemed all the more menacing knowing what — or who — might lurk out there.

She found the escaped convict where she left him, huddled in the shadow of a tombstone. He had packed his injured ankle in snow, bloody, dirty chunks of which surrounded his hunched form.

"About damn time Sweetheart," he bit out as he roughly grabbed the game bag from her shoulder. Katniss took a few hesitant steps back as he rifled through the aged canvas sack.

Ravenous, he shoved a whole squirrel-meat pie in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. Katniss focused her attention on the golden, flaky crumbs that clung to his greasy beard rather than the fear welling up within her.

"Oh praise you girl," he said upon discovering the white liquor. He uncorked the bottle and drank deeply. Several long guzzles later he set the bottle down beside him in the snow. He grabbed the second pie and took smaller bites, chewing thoughtfully as his eyes raked over Katniss.

"What's your name girl?" He barked out.

"Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"And what are you doing in a cemetery alone on Christmas Eve, Katniss Everdeen?"

She pointed to the gravestone marking the resting place for her parents and sister.

The convict hummed thoughtfully. "You got kin here?"

She nodded. "My mother, father and baby sister."

"You an orphan?"

"My- my cousin, he took me in."

"You a bit thin. He treat you alright?" The man asked between drinks.

Her gray eyes widened in surprise but her chin rose in defiance before answering his question. "He treats me fine. We don't have much but he works hard in the mines and we hunt together on Sundays. I earn my keep," she said meaningfully.

"Looks like I got me a fighter. That's good. It'll keep you alive."

He stopped drinking the liquor long enough to take the bolt cutters from the game bag. He handed the empty sack back to Katniss before bracing himself against the hard, granite tombstone. He clamped the tool around the iron shackle and bore his weight down. A litany of curses escaped him before the shoddily smithed iron finally gave way. He took a last swig of the liquor before pouring the remnants of the bottle on his torn flesh.

He slumped against the tombstone, spent but a small smile graced his face at the long-forgotten feeling of freedom.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, golden pin. He tossed it to Katniss. It depicted a bird with its wings spread, poised to take flight and an arrow clasped in its beak. The bird looked vaguely familiar, almost like a…

"It's a Mockingjay. You keep that. If you're ever in trouble you show them that, alright? I don't forget a kindness and I always repay my debts."

"Who are you?" She asked, rubbing her finger against the cold metal pin.

"Abernathy. Haymitch Abernathy. Don't you ever let that name leave your lips, understand me Sweetheart? This stays between you and me."

Katniss nodded in understanding, her eyes still on the shiny gold pin. When she looked up, the man was gone. All that remained in his place was an empty liquor bottle, a broken shackle and a pile of dirty, bloody snow.

For days, Katniss could think of nothing else except the man in the graveyard. She kept the pin in her pocket at all times and often idly trailed her fingers over its outer circle.

News broke around the new year that an escaped convict had been caught on the outskirts of their District.

The Mockingjay. A thief and murderer, the papers said. Returned to prison with 10 years added to his sentence.

Stranger things yet would happen to Katniss Everdeen, things that would move the midnight encounter with an escaped murderer to the back of her mind.

A stranger arrived at their doorstep in time with the first spring thaw. A solicitor named Plutarch Heavensbee said he represented a Mr. Coriolanus Snow, who wondered if Mr. Hawthorne would consent to let Katniss become playmates with Mr. Snow's ward, a young man named Peeta Mellark.

Madge had been raised a little higher up on the social ladder and so her jaw had dropped at the name Snow, one of richest and most powerful families in Panem. Though no one had seen or heard from Coriolanus Snow since his disastrous wedding day many years ago.

Katniss was scrubbed and brushed within an inch of her life the morning she was to meet Peeta Mellark. Gale and Madge sat her in the back of the cart as they rode to Snow Manor. She overheard Madge tell Gale the tragic tale of Coriolanus Snow. Apparently he was abandoned on his wedding day. A young, beautiful, selfish society woman named Alma Coin left him at the altar. Rumors spread as to why, some with more traction than others. Most said that Snow's snake-like eyes betrayed a cruel streak a mile wide and that Coin was more sensible than her pretty face gave her credit for. That she would rather have lived a pauper in an outlying district, than suffer a lifetime married to him.

"Of course, it's all rumor I'm sure," Madge said, turning back to assure Katniss.

The young girl remained quiet, but she wasn't convinced. Her cousin was a decent man, but she knew ambition burned within him. He wasn't content with his lot in life and she reckoned he saw this as an opportunity, a stepping stone. He had a history of taking advantage, he wooed and married Madge after all.

They stopped when they reached a wrought-iron gate. The twisted metal spires were fashioned into thorned, menacing rose bushes that reached high into the air. Katniss peaked through the gate and spied an abandoned, over-grown property that seemed as if time had forgotten it.

A slender, freckled, red-headed man clad all in black opened the gate and motioned for Katniss to enter, she looked back at Gale who shooed her forward hopefully. "Go on Catnip, we'll be back for you later."

The servant closed the creaking gate behind her and she followed him through a winding, nearly invisible path. The entire property was covered in wild, overgrown foliage. Rose bushes with thorns so long they looked like needles sprung up everywhere. Through the untamed greenery Katniss thought she spied the remains of an abandoned wedding banquet, but shook that off as a wild impossibility.

The servant led her to through the entryway, up a winding staircase to a study at the back of the house. Katniss thanked him and he bowed to her as he left. She noticed a strange tick in his cheek and that's when it occurred to her, he was an avox. She'd heard of them, criminals punished by having their tongues cut out and then being sold into servitude. It was an old custom and only Panem's wealthiest citizens maintained the practice.

Katniss looked around the cold room and wrinkled her nose as the cloying scent of roses overwhelmed her.

"Well Miss Everdeen, have a seat," a voice hissed from behind a grand desk. Katniss sat primly in the blood-red velvet seat and met her host's eyes. Madge was right, they were certainly snake-like. His white hair and mustache were waxed into place and a decayed red rose hung in the lapel of his filthy, aged white suit.

"Welcome, welcome child. I assume you know why you're here?" He asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward on the desk. Katniss nodded mutely, afraid to speak in his presence. He eyed her critically, taking in her pigtail braids and the red plaid dress that was a shade too small.

"All I ask in the time that you are welcome here, Miss Everdeen, is that you not lie. Do you think you can accomplish that?" He asked, his bushy white eyebrows raised in question.

Katniss nodded.

"Speak up Miss Everdeen," he commanded sharply.

"I won't lie," she spoke eagerly. "You have my word. I won't lie," she promised.

"Good," he said, his puffy lips lifting in a cruel smile. "Peeta, you may enter now." A side door opened and a young boy about Katniss' age stepped through. Her eyes widened in wonder and she blushed prettily as he approached her. He was the most handsome boy she had ever seen. His wavy blond hair shined like spun gold and his blue eyes twinkled like stars on a clear night. His full lips rested in an even line before lifting in a polite, perfect smile.

He extended a hand toward her and Katniss stared dumbly. He turned to the older man and spoke in a language Katniss didn't recognize, but from the look on his gorgeous face it wasn't high praise.

"Don't be unkind Peeta. She's your guest," Snow admonished.

The young boy nodded dutifully before turning his gaze back to Katniss. He rolled his eyes before beckoning her to follow him out the room.

They walked down the winding staircase out onto the grounds. He guided her through the wild property and overgrown brush before leading her to a grand water fountain. Peeta stepped forward and drank from the stream of water flowing from a nymph's sea shell. He took a long drink before motioning for Katniss to do the same. She hesitantly walked forward and climbed onto marble structure. She ducked her head and took a drink of the cool, refreshing liquid.

She saw Peeta sweep in out of the corner of her eye but even with her hunter's reflexes she didn't react quick enough before his lips captured hers in a kiss. The water was cool where his lips were warm and Katniss pulled back with a startled gasp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Peeta released a musical chuckle before running off, beckoning her to follow. They played hide and seek on the maze-like property. The boy called her name in a sing-song voice as she tried to find him. Eventually he appeared, tugging on her braid and calling the game over, feigning boredom.

He led her to a small patch of grass. The avox had finished setting up a picnic on a black and white gingham cloth when they approached.

"You're dismissed Darius," Peeta commanded haughtily before motioning for Katniss to sit down. A delicious array of food was laid out for them. Cold chicken, flakey croissants, soft goat cheese, roasted apples, green salad with strawberries and walnuts and flagons of both iced tea and hot chocolate.

Katniss ate heartily and watched as the strange, beautiful boy dipped the flaky, buttery croissant in the hot chocolate. He peppered her with questions throughout the meal. He didn't react or comment when she spoke, just absorbed each of her answers with equanimity.

A long silence settled in after their bellies were stuffed and the meal cleared away. They sat on the black and white blanket, absorbing the gentle early spring sun.

"You're meant to be my plaything, you know."

"You mean playmate, I'm meant to be your playmate, right?" Katniss questioned.

He shrugged indifferently.

At the end of the day Peeta led Katniss back to Snow's study. The boy didn't look her way before exiting the room. Snow eyed her contemplatively.

"Did you enjoy yourself today Miss Everdeen?"

Katniss gulped, biting back her instinctual, polite response of "Of course." Snow had warned her not to lie and so Katniss bit her lip as she carefully considered her answer.

"I enjoyed the food."

Snow chuckled before pulling out a ledger. He dipped his quill into a pot of ink and quickly scribbled away. "Oh yes, I think you'll do nicely." He rose and handed the paper to Katniss.

"Give this to your guardian." He sat behind his desk and idly stroked the petals of the dead flower pinned to his lapel. He spoke in a clipped tone, "You will arrive properly dressed every Sunday promptly at 10 a.m. You will keep company with Peeta for several hours before being dismissed. While here you will be fed in a manner similar to the meal you shared today. I assume these terms are acceptable?"

Katniss nodded but then recalled how he demanded she speak during their conversation earlier in the day. "Yes, I accept," she said with all the courage and aplomb an 11-year-old could muster.

"Good," Snow said, a glimmer in his snake-like eyes.

Gale was alone outside the forbidding rose gate when Katniss exited the manor. They loaded into the cart when she remembered the piece of paper in her pocket.

"Here," she said. "I was told to give this to you."

Gale's eyes widened at the check and the sum made out to his young cousin. He ruffled her hair before tucking the check into his breast pocket. "You know, Catnip, you got a real chance to change things? You could really be something."

Katniss pulled her knees to her chest and watched the manor slowly fade into the distance as they drove away. She understood how money could change things for them, the difference between poverty and wealth was stark as black and white, but what would become of her if she got caught up in the shades of gray in between?

Katniss arrived at Snow Manor every Sunday for years. She and Peeta found all manner of activity to amuse themselves. When Peeta discovered that she hunted with her cousin using a bow and arrow he had them clear space for an archery range in a far corner of the property.

Peeta wasn't much of a shot, but he enjoyed watching Katniss. A weight was lifted when she had a bow in her hands, she stood taller, smiled brighter. Peeta adopted the habit of sketching Katniss while she practiced. It began during that first year. At first, she grew shy when he would pull out his parchment and charcoal pencils, but as the years progressed it became second nature. She was as accustomed to Peeta's hawk-like gaze traveling over her as she was the feel of the bow in her hand.

"We need to design a new range, you're too good at this one already," he noted one spring day. "Your eighteenth birthday is next week, maybe I can arrange it by then." He said, adding a layer of watercolor to a sketch of Katniss. The drawing was exquisite in its detail and accuracy. Her left arm was pulled back, bow strung taught, her right hand rested at the corner of her mouth, her quicksilver eyes narrowed in concentration.

She knelt beside him and popped a grape in her mouth as she watched him add a drop of red to the Cupid's bow of her mouth. He was so focused, his face took on a special look when he concentrated. His expression was usually so controlled, revealing only what he wanted to, but in those moments she could see hints of an entire world locked away inside him.

She'd visited Peeta every Sunday for the past seven years. In some ways, he was still a stranger, but in others she knew him better than anyone in the world. Somewhere along the way, their visits had become the best part of her week. But if her time spent with Peeta was the best, the moments she spent in Snow's study were the worst.

He never demanded much of her time, just a few minutes at the end of the day when he wrote her check. But in those moments, she always felt his reptilian eyes appraising her, judging her, finding her lacking.

"Will you sing for me Katniss?" Peeta asked, as the sun set, their time together almost at an end.

She ducked her head shyly. He'd discovered she could sing some years ago. She'd been sitting by the fountain waiting for him to join her when she heard mockingjays in the distance. She'd idly hummed a tune, hoping they would take up the song. When they did she started singing more and more elaborate melodies until the entire yard erupted into an impromptu concert between her and the birds. She stopped when Peeta emerged from the shadows, clapping slowly.

She'd blushed furiously, convinced he was mocking her, that his praise was rife with condescension. He never actually complimented her voice. In fact, he never said anything about it but every now and again he would ask her to sing.

If Katniss felt his face revealed something of himself while painting, his countenance was the complete opposite while she sang. His eyes took on a faraway look and his expression was absolutely unreadable. But after she sang whatever tune or melody came to mind, he would always offer her the most sincere thanks. And she would smile at him, happy to give him moments of joy, for she had given him her heart long ago.

Oh it was foolish and she knew it, to love someone so beautiful, so untouchable, so far above her but she couldn't help it. Seven years of Sundays spent in the company of the unknowable boy had sealed her fate.

Peeta was a puzzle and she would never tire of trying to solve him. All the time she wondered what it must have been like for him to grow up in the mausoleum of a house that was Snow Manor. Snow still wore his wedding suit, the wedding banquet though rotted and decayed still decorated the grounds and all the clocks in the house hadn't ticked in decades. It was a house frozen in time, Peeta the only thing growing and changing within it.

At the song's end Peeta spoke again, "Your birthday, it falls on a Sunday. Will you be here?"

She took his hand in hers. "Of course, Peeta. Always."

He offered her a rueful smile before dropping her hand and rising to his feet. He gathered his art supplies and took one last, long look at the sun setting in the horizon before bidding her goodbye.

She smoothed her skirt and schooled her features before climbing the stairs to Snow's study. She never breathed a word about her feelings for Peeta but she sensed that somehow the man knew and took a strange almost cruel delight in that knowledge.

He signed the check with his usual flourish but paused before handing it to her. He eyed her dress, a blue dress with a cinched waist, high collar and short sleeves, utterly useless for any other purpose than her visits with Peeta. At home she wore Gale's old trousers or Madge's faded but sensible skirts and blouses.

"Your birthday is next week Miss Everdeen, I do think it would be appropriate to dress for the occasion, don't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Snow, of course. I'll wear my best dress," she hastily assured him.

"Perhaps you should aim higher, Miss Everdeen. I'm sure you can find a tolerable seamstress or tailor in the village who should be able to come up with something that will do."

"Yes, sir. Of course."

Katniss fled Snow's study as quickly as she could. She had no idea why he wanted her to dress up, but she was determined not to disappoint him or Peeta.

The next day Madge took her to a shop in the village run a by a man named Cinna and his sister Portia. They led Katniss into the back room, where they quickly took her measurements before sitting her down and discussing her needs for the dress.

"It should be nice, proper, ladylike," she said.

He smiled warmly at her. "Yes, Katniss, I understand what you're saying but you're not answering my question. How do you want this dress to make you feel? It's for your birthday?"

She fidgeted in her seat, she didn't know how to explain that while she was the one wearing the dress it wasn't really meant for her.

"There's a boy," she began and a knowing gleam came into Cinna's eyes.

"And I'm a companion of sorts. I mean not a- that is we haven't..." she blushed profusely.

"You're the girl that keeps company with Snow's ward, aren't you?"

Katniss nodded her head. A shadow passed over Cinna's face before it was replaced with a look of concentration.

"I think I understand, Katniss. Trust me. I will make you the right dress."

Katniss arrived at Snow Manor the following Sunday bundled up in a long, dark wool coat. It was still quite chilly for early May. Darius opened the gate for her and led her to the large, formal dining room where Peeta awaited her.

He was dressed in a crisp white suit, with large, angular lapels jutting out just below his collar. A single white rose was tucked into his breast pocket. He looked handsome but Snow's specter was visible in every line of the ensemble.

The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight as they were strewn about the room and down the long, formal dining table overflowing with delicious food. Every delicacy she had tasted and learned to love during her visits was prepared: chicken with orange glaze, lamb stew with plums over wild rice, roast apples, chocolate cake, orange juice, tea and of course hot chocolate.

Katniss startled when Darius reached for her shoulders to remove her coat, she ducked her head unable to meet Peeta's eyes as her dress was revealed.

The silver dress shimmered in the light, the large, full skirt swishing around her legs with every step. Katniss had balked at the bare shoulders when Cinna first presented the dress to her but as Peeta's eyes raked over her, catching at the elegant and elaborate braid resting against her neck, leading to the valley of her breasts, she thought the tailor may have been right.

"You look radiant, like moonlight herself," Peeta said before pulling out a chair and helping Katniss into her seat.

She blushed, unused to Peeta speaking so effusively.

She placed her napkin in her lap and tucked into the meal, served on fine bone China and eaten with gold-plated cutlery.

The evening felt magical and unreal and she didn't understand why Peeta would go to such lengths in her honor. But as the night wore on and hot chocolate was replaced with wine Katniss felt her worries slip away. She contented herself with delicious food and later, with the delicious feel of dancing in Peeta's arms.

"In seven years there's still so many rooms in this house I haven't shown you. Would you like to go exploring?"

Katniss nodded and Peeta whisked her away to a wing of the house she'd never seen before. He led her up a winding staircase through a long hallway decorated with large paintings, portraits of imposing figures in the Snow line.

The last one was of Peeta, sitting in a simple wooden chair, wearing a white suit much like the one he had on that evening, clutching a white rose in his hand. It was the look in his eyes that most captured Katniss' attention, it was as if he could look right through whoever gazed at the painting.

She surveyed the other portraits on the wall. "Yours is different," she noted. She narrowed her eyes, looking closer at the initials scrawled in the corner. "You painted it yourself?" She asked, stunned.

He nodded. "The artist who painted the last three generations died and in lieu of finding a replacement I was allowed to paint my own portrait, yes."

"It's marvelous, but..."

"Yes?" He prompted.

"You seem so cold, so unfeeling and unaffected," she observed.

"You don't think that's an accurate depiction of my character?" He smirked.

Katniss licked her lips before continuing, "I think that's what you want the world to see." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Who he wants you to be, but I think there's more to you than that, Peeta."

She sucked in a sharp breath when she finally met Peeta's gaze. His blue eyes were smoldering, looking at her with a burning intensity she didn't know it was possible for a body to contain. Katniss shivered despite the fact her body felt feverish under his heated gaze.

He moved impossibly fast, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into a room off the long hallway. It was his quarters, a bedroom and wardrobe and washroom. Rooms she had never seen before, had never dared think about. He pulled her against his chest and buried his nose in the braid resting against her throat. She felt his lips brush the delicate skin where her neck met her shoulder. He breathed her name, a sigh of benediction.

In another lightning quick move he had her pinned against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest. "Seven years, Katniss. Tell me you never thought of this, never dreamt of this, never woke up in the middle of the night sweating and panting thinking of this," he said before covering her lips with his own, taking her mouth in a deep, plundering kiss.

She moaned at the contact, her hands scrabbling up his back to bury themselves in his thick head of blond hair. His lips were warm, smooth but not gentle. The kiss was ferocious and bruising in its intensity, a hot clash of teeth and tongues.

Peeta grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall behind her, pressing the length of his body against hers. Suddenly, Katniss felt like a girl on fire. Her skin burned where they touched despite the numerous layers of fabric between them.

She stiffened when she felt his hands on the laces of her dress. She pulled back from the kiss, eyeing him warily.

"Peeta, I shouldn't. We can't," she breathed.

Her pressed his forehead against hers. "Katniss, I must have you. I will have you. Let me have you. Please."

It was the tender hint of desperation that sent her resistance up in smoke like the color of her dress.

This time her lips captured his in a heated kiss, her tongue exploring the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. His perfect teeth nipped at her lower lip and Katniss moaned, throwing her head back.

Peeta turned her so her back was facing him and resumed his work on the laces of her dress. His large, strong body pressed against her insistently and she instinctively pressed her hips back against his. Peeta sucked in a breath, "Oh Katniss, you don't know the effect you can have."

She felt the stays loosen and suddenly her dress slipped from her body onto the floor. Katniss turned to face Peeta, meeting his gaze. A gaze that was eating her alive.

He traced his hand down her face, slowly coming to rest around her neck. She felt his grip tighten for a second before a shudder ran through him and he buried his hand in her hair, undoing and tangling the elaborate braid simultaneously.

Katniss brought her hands up to roam the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders. His body was lean and muscular and so hot to the touch even through his dinner jacket and dress shirt. Katniss clutched greedily at his clothing, hastily removing first one item and then the next until his smooth, sculpted torso was laid bare.

Peeta groaned when she placed a tender kiss just above his heart. He gripped her hips and lifted her up, carrying and promptly depositing her on the bed.

He took hold of one of her long, lean legs and quickly removed her slippers and stockings before repeating the task, leaving her in nothing but her chemise and drawers. She hadn't been so exposed to him since they were children swimming in a pond.

Her leaned in and took her lips another punishing kiss, causing her to gasp in pleasure and pain. She felt his hands trail down her sides, peeling her underclothes off inch by inch.

He sucked in a breath when she was laid completely bare. Eyes the color of molten steel clashed with Peeta's blues. And Katniss saw the storm raging within them, passion rising with all the force of the sea battering the shore. Katniss felt like one of the rocks on the shore, exposed and vulnerable but always waiting and welcoming the sea's assault.

Her dexterous hands, so clever with snares and bow strings, fumbled with the laces on Peeta's breeches, but he offered no help. He eyed her intently, like a predator stalking prey as she eventually divested him of his clothing.

Katniss marveled at his beauty. The only marble statues she had ever seen were the ones decorating the Snow property, but Peeta put those false gods to shame. The man before her was the embodiment of youth and beauty. She recalled the statues of three brothers Peeta had shown her on the property's eastern front some years ago. He was as powerful as Zeus, as sleek as Poseidon and as forbidding as Hades as he loomed over her in all his dangerous, intoxicating beauty.

Flames licked at her skin where Peeta's body touched her, his hands roaming the length of her leg, the curve of her hip, the slope of her belly, before finally grasping the gentle swell of her breasts. They were modest in size but felt heavy in his hands. Her pert nipples ached for his touch and Katniss cried out loudly when he captured one in his mouth. The wet heat and gentle pressure drove her mad, her hips thrusting instinctively against his, seeking to extinguish flames only Peeta could set alight.

His hands trailed down her body intent on exploring the wet heat at her core. Katniss gasped as he slipped a finger inside, the intrusion felt strange but welcome. He gently stroked her before adding a second finger. Katniss felt pressure stirring within her as his hands caressed her. She let out a loud cry when his other hand discovered the most sensitive part of her flesh, his thumb pressing against her gently.

"Peeta, please," she said, pleading for what she did not know.

She was burning up, her body climbing higher and higher toward an unknown peak. His hands reminded buried in her slick folds but Peeta shifted until his body lay alongside her, burying his face in her neck. He kissed and bit at the tender flesh there before bringing his mouth up to her ear. He exhaled hot, wet breaths against her before speaking in a low voice.

"I have nightmares sometimes, about losing you. Tell me I won't lose you, Katniss. Tell me I have you."

"I'm yours," she panted against his flesh.

"Will you stay with me Katniss?" He asked, increasing the speed and pressure of his hands until she came, the word "always" a broken cry on her lips.

Peeta gave her no opportunity to catch her breath before covering her mouth with his, his body following as he positioned himself between her thighs, sheathing himself inside her.

She cried out at the intrusion no amount of arousal could truly prepare her for. Peeta stilled within her for a long moment before gently rocking his hips against hers.

Her body felt twinges of pain and pleasure simultaneously, but the most overwhelming sensation was that of fullness. Her senses were inundated with Peeta Mellark. His mouth tasted sweet like chocolate and tart like wine, his masculine scent clung to his hot, sweat-slicked skin. She could feel him, hard and heavy inside her, filling her again and again. The pleasure flowed through her again, but the waves were smaller than before, tempered by the slight pain she still felt.

Peeta's hands clutched possessively at her hips as his own sped up, racing toward completion. Katniss let out a moan when his hand splayed on her lower back lifting her body so that their centers aligned in a new angle, one that sent lights flashing behind her eyes. It was a race and all the sudden Katniss felt so much closer to the finish line.

Peeta's thrusts grew more erratic until finally he came, Katniss' name a guttural cry on his lips. She felt a warm rush of wet heat between her thighs and looked down to see a sticky, white puddle on her thigh as he withdrew from her body.

A wave of tiredness crashed over her and Katniss blinked several times, unsuccessfully trying to stave off sleep. The last thing she saw before falling asleep was Peeta's face and a dark look that was completely at odds with the content smile gracing her face.

The next morning Katniss woke to an ache between her thighs and an empty bed. She grabbed her underclothes and dress from the floor while calling for Peeta quietly, attempting to dress herself. A knot of terror wound in her gut as she looked through his chambers, only to find them all empty.

She startled when a maid walked through the door, another red-headed avox she'd only seen a few times named Lavinia. The girl helped her dress as best she could. She ran a brush through Katniss' hair and styled in into a tidy braid but there was little she could do about the wrinkled state of Katniss' gown.

The maid even handed her coat to wrap herself up in before leading her to the very last place she wanted to be. Katniss waited in Snow's familiar study until the man finally arrived. His cold, reptilian eyes looked her over thoroughly. "The dress suits you, Miss Everdeen. Gray. Not quite black, not quite white. Like much of your life. You aren't fully Seam but you're not a Merchant. You've spent all these years at my home, by Peeta's side but you'll never be one of us. As lovely as you are, as lovely as that dress is, you'll never belong."

"Where's Peeta?" Katniss finally croaked out.

"The Capitol," he said. "Education for a gentleman; far out of reach; handsomer than ever; admired by all who see him. Do you feel that you have lost him?" Snow prodded.

Katniss bit her knuckles, trying to choke back a sob.

"He was never yours to lose. I brought you here to a serve purpose and you served it well. If Peeta can conquer the heart of a hardened girl from District 12, imagine how easily he'll crush soft, dim Capitol socialites." He went on, his voice slithering across her skin. "Love him. Love him, if you will. But I've known since you were 11 years old that it will break you."

Katniss' head was spinning, a dizzying wave of nausea swept over her. She thought back to the that very first Sunday, all those years ago.

_"You're meant to be my plaything, you know."_

Panic and hysteria clawed at her insides until a hand covered her mouth with a white cloth, smothering her outrage and heartbreak.

She woke later in her narrow bed, her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. She felt disoriented, struggling to remember how she got home from Snow Manor.

"They brought you back after you got sick," she heard Gale say from a far corner of the room. Katniss struggled to sit up, but finally managed.

"What? I don't...remember," she said groggily.

"A servant brought you back with a note, said you'd taken ill after the birthday meal they had for you. Said they brought you back as soon as you was fit to travel," Gale explained. He looked his cousin over thoroughly. "Is that the truth of it, Catnip?"

She nodded her head and immediately regretted it. She let out a pained whimper before telling her cousin, "That's it. I still don't feel well truthfully."

He put a concerned hand to her for heard before telling her to rest up.

Katniss stayed abed for several days, heartsick. Snow had sent her home with a final check and a letter explaining that Peeta wouldn't be returning and her services were no long required.

_Services_. She eyed the word disdainfully just as she did the gray dress that hung in the wardrobe. Cinna had crafted a truly elegant gown, but Snow was right. It wasn't silver it was gray and Katniss berated herself for getting caught up with Coriolanus Snow and Peeta Mellark, for getting lost in the shades of gray between her good, humble life in the Seam and the debauched, decadent excess of their Capitol wealth.

She thought of him from time to time. She wondered what her beautiful, illusive boy was up to in the Capitol. The heartache and curiosity never faded, but eventually Katniss was able to put it from her mind. She worked hard to hunt and provide for her family.

Eventually another stranger came calling at their door. This time it was a woman named Effie Trinket who was heading up admissions to a new school for girls and one of their patrons had suggested Katniss' name and offered to pay her tuition as well.

"You can read and write and do sums, I presume?" She asked primly.

"'Course she can!" Gale chimed in. "She was playmates with Peeta Mellark, Coriolanus Snow's ward, for a number of years. They made sure she had her learnin', weren't keeping company with no fool," he said defensively.

"I'm so very glad to hear it. Well Miss Everdeen, the choice is yours. You are welcome to attend the Capitol University for Ladies if you so choose." She rose from her seat and nearly left before adding, "I should say that an old acquaintance and the person whose interests I represent would be most happy to see you take this opportunity."

Katniss mulled it over for weeks, trying to decide what to do, to figure out who her possible benefactor could be. Only one name circled in her mind, but it made no sense. Coriolanus Snow summarily dismissed her, why would he want her in the Capitol with Peeta Mellark? Was it a second chance? If so, she wouldn't hesitate to take it.

Katniss was nearly done with her education when she discovered the identity of her mysterious benefactor. She was reading in the library when an older man approached her. He looked hardened and tough and vaguely familiar. Katniss nearly dismissed the gentleman until he spoke to her.

"I consider my debt paid in full, Sweetheart," he said, sliding the day's newspaper across the table.

A chill went down her spine at the sound of the rough voice, still gravelly after all those years. She could still hear the clinking of the chain, feel the cold Christmas air, see the flaky pie crumbs clinging to his gray beard.

"You," she said dumbly, remembering the convict. "Hay- Ab-" she paused. "What can I call you?"

"You can call me by my name, Haymitch Abernathy, it's finally been cleared after all these years," he said, motioning toward the paper.

Katniss lifted it up and looked at the headline "Coriolanus Snow killed in house fire."

"How? I don't...understand."

"I made the mistake of helping a woman named Alma Coin escape a matrimonial nightmare with Snow. Turns out he's not so forgiving. Had the poor girl murdered and set me up to take the fall. But I did my stint in the Arena and got out. Since then I've spent my time dismantling Snow's empire bit by bit."

She gulped, holding up the paper, "Are you responsible for this?"

"God no. Man's a lunatic, burned his mansion and himself to the ground."

"Peeta," she whispered under her breath.

"Heard bits and pieces about you and the boy. Be careful there, Sweetheart. Snow hijacked that boy, twisted his heart and mind all his life. I don't think he has any conception of what's real or not when it comes to the outside world."

Katniss nodded, unable to speak afraid the tears gathering in her eyes would fall. She rose quickly, gathering her books and things. Haymitch grabbed her wrist. "I saw potential in you all those years ago. I still see it now. I did what I could to give you an opportunity, don't waste it."

"It was you, you did this for me? You sent Effie Trinket?" She asked, all the pieces clicking into place.

"I did. And like I said my debt has been repaid, but let me say this, moths and all sorts of ugly creatures hover about a lighted candle. You burn brightly, Katniss Everdeen. Beware what creatures you let near. Snow stole that boy's heart away and put ice in its place. Do not let him douse the flame which burns so brightly inside you."

The man disappeared as quickly as he came, leaving Katniss in his wake.

Wary, Katniss heeded his words. She did not go looking for Peeta Mellark, but as fate would have it he found her.

She'd returned to District 12 from the Capitol some months before, but it took her time to gather her courage before visiting Snow Manor. It was a hollow, burned-out shell of it's former glory, but Katniss saw nothing but memories in the dilapidated structure.

The marble fountain where Peeta first kissed her stood tall, still beautiful despite smoke stains. Most of the house was a crumbling mess and so she avoided the study and Peeta's chambers. She wound her way through the property that was just as wild and overgrown as she remembered. Thorns pulled at the sturdy cotton of her dress but Katniss was undeterred. She continued her trek until she found the archery range. It was unkempt but still in tact. She searched a nearby tree for a bow and quiver of arrows which she strapped across her back. The bow was somewhat warped and worn but she still notched an arrow, taking aim and letting it fly. The first one hit the outside ring of the target and she quickly lost herself in the exercise, loosing the entire quiver of arrows, hitting the bullseye several times over on the various targets.

She startled when she heard a slow clap come from the shadows and sucked in a breath when Peeta Mellark emerged from the tree line, carrying a picnic basket and a familiar black and white gingham blanket.

He passed by her, his head cocked in silent invitation and Katniss couldn't help but follow. He set out the blanket and picnic in the familiar spot. Quietly they laid out next to each and it almost could have been that last picnic from all those years ago, but it wasn't. Katniss wasn't the same girl and she wasn't sure whether she wanted Peeta to be the same boy or not.

"He wanted me to deceive and entrap you," he spoke after some time, turning to her with a serious look fixed on his too handsome face. "He raised me to despise and mistrust everyone, women most of all. You were practice for a lifetime of revenge I was to mete out. First in a long line of girls I was meant to ruin."

Tears pricked at Katniss' eyes at the harsh, cruel truth.

"But it was you who ruined me, ruined all his hard work. He underestimated you, Katniss. He didn't love so he couldn't understand the effect you could have." He paused, unsure how to continue. "I was enamored from the moment you arrived in a red plaid dress, your hair in two braids instead of one. And then you sang and all the birds stopped to listen. My mother, I don't- I don't remember much. A halo of golden hair and the voice of an angel. She would sing to me. And your voice, your beautiful voice," he said, rising up on his knees to take her hands in his, "would remind me of her. Of what life was like before this place." He looked around, disdainfully surveying their surroundings. "A gilded cage is still a cage, Katniss. And I was trapped. Snow tried to root himself inside me and I didn't know how to love. At least not without breaking you, causing you pain."

Katniss ran a gentle hand through his hair, her words quiet but with an edge of steel. "I loved you against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. And it burned me Peeta. Nearly burned the heart out of me."

"But you did not burn alone, I swear it," he whispered in her ear, dragging his lips across her temple.

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, the blue depths were bright and clear and unguarded. For once, Peeta's heart was on his sleeve. A feeling suspiciously like hope bloomed in her chest at the look in his eyes.

She finally asked him, "You love me. Real or not real?"

"Real."

They made love in the warm glow of afternoon sunlight. Freer, happier than they ever were as children. After, as Katniss laid wrapped up in the black and white gingham blanket, her fingers idly tracing the frayed edges, she thought perhaps it wasn't so bad, getting lost in the shades of gray. For once the smoke cleared, she found a place in the sun.


End file.
